1. It’s still early for Armley and the woods are our own again. I tell Lily about the adventures the cats got up to when they lived here. It feels like a million years ago now. I thought I’d never been able to let it go but it’s been surprisingly easy.
2. The dusky pink blanket on the rich blue sofa. The stove’s orange window. The lilac flowers on her shoe.
3. After a week of fighting it, I eventually give into my growing exhaustion and all over aches. I spend the whole late afternoon/evening reading. Amongst other things, I read John Christopher’s ‘The Death of Grass’ from cover to cover. Like John Wyndham, the UK location makes it feel startlingly real and at one point, I turn to John to report that Leeds has been destroyed by an atomic bomb. “Well then,” he says, “I guess we should stay away from the bottom of the garden.”